Page 10 of Tight Spot

I needed help, and for the first time in my life, I was going to have to ask for it.

“Shit,” I grumbled and hauled myself out of my pool where I’d been swimming laps to try to clear my mind.

How in the hell did one go on finding a girlfriend, someone Rick and our team’s management would find acceptable? I found women at bars and clubs, occasionally on the road. I’d used the dating app for celebrities, but I wasn’t going there again.

Too many narcissist drama queens who were better at gaslighting than any man I’d ever met.

I needed someone simple. Quiet. Believable. I needed her to want the exact same things I did so there were no complications once I fulfilled my end of the deal and we went our separate ways.

I grabbed a towel and dried my hair and gave my body a quick wipe-down before heading to the shower.

If I needed help, I needed my brothers. My teammates.

The ones I could trust to keep this quiet and who could actually give me decent advice were slim pickings, though.

* * *

Davis, who’d grown a lot since finding out he got a girl pregnant on a one-night stand and who was now planning their wedding in a few weeks, was at least trying to take this seriously. Mason Yeets, on the other hand, was looking like a kid in a candy shop at the prospect of finding me a girlfriend.

I called Davis because he was the only person who I’d mentioned this to and that was moments before we took the field for the Super Bowl. Not the right time but getting it off my chest then had allowed me to focus on helping our team win the game.

I didn’t have brothers growing up, only teammates, but I imagined the look on Davis’s face would be one a brother would make when they were trying to keep from laughing their asses off.

Cole Buchanan, my saving grace, was inside grabbing us all beers while the other two lunatics and myself were hanging out on the covered patio of my backyard, overlooking acres of land, my pool, and a putting green.

“I can’t believe you haven’t found someone yet,” Davis said. “It’s been months.”

“It’s not like chicks who make management happy come in a catalog.”

Mason hid his laughter, poorly, behind his fist. “Catalog. Wouldn’t that be awesome? Didn’t they used to do that way back when? Mail-order bride or some shit? Maybe do that, bruh. Put out a wanted ad online.”

If he was closer to me, I’d punch him. He probably took the seat across the table from me so he could be this big of a jackass and stay out of my reach.

“Right. That’s what Rick meant when he told me to be someone respected. A billboard in Times Square was just what he was thinking.”

“Why not just go to the clubs? Find someone you’re attracted to, and that’s the end of it.”

“Because I won’t know anything about them or if I can trust them. And the last thing I want is to be attracted to a woman who’s playing the part of my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, that’d suck.” Mason laughed. “Being attracted to someone you have to spend months with.” He shivered.

I grabbed the bottle cap from the table and flicked it at his face. “I’m paying them, idiot. A fuckton of money so they keep their mouths shut. I don’t need to be tortured by someone I want to fuck, and I’m not hiring a goddamn prostitute.”

“Might be easier,” Davis said.

“What would be easier?” Cole asked and set down a bucket in the center of the table.

It was filled with ice and more beer than I usually drank in a month, and I only used the metal tin when I had parties. How in the hell he found it in my butler’s pantry in a matter of minutes was anyone’s guess.

Mason lost his hold of his laughter. “Hiring a prostitute.”

Davis chuckled, laughed louder, and soon enough, both men were doubled over laughing their asses off.

At me. I hated being laughed at.

Cole gave me a wide-eyed look and I shook my head. No, I was not hiring a hooker.

“Should have known not to invite the kids to the adult party.”

---